


come back, be here

by mjhealy



Category: Jagged Little Pill - Morissette & Ballard/Morissette/Cody
Genre: F/M, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:54:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26450713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mjhealy/pseuds/mjhealy
Summary: Steve goes on a business trip. Frankie tells her mother a story.
Relationships: Mary Jane "MJ" Healy/Steve Healy
Comments: 1
Kudos: 9





	come back, be here

**Author's Note:**

> i'm gonna hold on to the epilogue to ends of overwhelm a little longer hehe so in the meanwhile here's something fluffy i wrote today!
> 
> if the title is a taylor swift lyric no it isn't <3

MJ practically had to force him out the door that morning. She could see him hesitating in the doorway, the suitcase that she had neatly packed for him the day before in hand, staring at her. 

It had taken her a whole day to convince him to commit to this work trip in the first place. She told him it would be insane not to go—it was only his third month with the new company, and they’d specifically asked him to go to this conference, and made it pretty clear that they very, very much wanted him to go.

“But if I tell them I really can’t, that my family needs me at home, they’ll understand, I’m sure-“

“But your family doesn’t need you at home,” she’d countered. “Your family is fine. And your wife wants you to get outta here for a weekend.”

And so he’d relented, and after a brief moment of hesitation in the doorway that morning, he’d kissed her goodbye and headed off. His first trip away since… everything.

It made her feel a tad pathetic, that her husband couldn’t even spend a weekend away from her without worrying that she was going to do something stupid, or break down, or something. But she’s long since accepted that once your husband has had to search for your pulse on the living room floor, he’s allowed to worry all he wants.

She’s kind of excited for him to be gone, honestly, to have the weekend to herself, with just the kids. She’s more worried about him than herself, that he’s going to worry unnecessarily and not be able to enjoy herself. 

Three days. They were going to be fine.

—

Nick has a late night swim practice, so it’s just her and Frankie on Friday night. She finds her in her room as dinner time approaches, the door open halfway, Frankie laying on her back in bed and holding her phone above her head as she scrolls.

MJ hovers in the doorway, looking at Frankie with puppy dog eyes, pouting jokingly.

“Can I help you?”

MJ smiles, taking it as an invitation and stepping towards the bed. She climbs next to Frankie, taking up way too much space in her bed, sprawling. She does this when she wants attention, annoys her family on purpose, finding herself maybe a little funnier than she actually is. Frankie rolls her eyes. 

“What do we want for dinner?” Her mom asks.

“Oh, are we like, eating eating? I was just gonna find something in the fridge.” 

“We could order a pizza?”

“Sure.” Frankie turns her attention back to her phone. MJ doesn’t move from the bed, and after a moment Frankie realizes she’s still being pouted at. She drops her phone and looks at her mother once more.

“We could watch a movie?” MJ adds. Frankie laughs a little.

“Dad hasn’t even been gone a whole day and you’re already this needy?”

MJ feigns being offended. “Excuse me, I am just craving some quality time with my only daughter.”

“Sure. But yes, we can watch a movie. That I will choose.” Her mom has the weirdest taste in movies—it’s pretty much The Parent Trap or Die Hard with no in between.

“Deal.”

MJ sits up, no longer taking up the whole bed to be annoying, but she doesn’t quite move yet. She sits against Frankie’s headboard, watching her scroll through instagram for a minute.

“God, I really do miss him when he’s gone for one day,” she admits quietly, the realization striking her. “Isn’t that dumb? I mean, lord knows we’ve gone much longer.” 

Frankie looks right back up at her, her face softening a little. “It’s not dumb. It’s cute.”

“I’m not sure my kids are supposed to think I’m cute.”

“Okay, never mind then, it is dumb.”

MJ gives her a little touch on the shoulder before climbing back out of her bed. “Alright, I’m going to go order pizza. Pick a movie for us.” She starts to head out the door, not noticing that Frankie is watching her leave. 

“Mom,” Frankie calls softly, just as she’s about to pass through the doorway. “Um, when you were in rehab, and it was dad’s birthday, Nick and I decided to clean the whole house for him, as a present. ‘Cause, you know, it was a mess without you. And I didn’t want to go through your room too much, but I decided to just tidy it a little, and make the bed and stuff…”

MJ leans against the doorway, wondering where this is going. She’s a little nervous, wondering what on earth Frankie might have found in her room, if she left anything embarrassing out without meaning too before being hospitalized. Like drugs.

“All of the sweaters you’d left here were lying on your side of the bed. Under the blankets. I didn’t even get it at first, I just figured it was from when he was packing for you or something, but… he was sleeping with them, with your clothes, every night. The whole time you were gone.”

Like a punch in the stomach.

“Oh.”

There’s a hint of a lump in the back of her throat, but she certainly won’t cry in front of Frankie.

“Did you know that?”

“No, I had no idea.” She tries to keep her tone neutral, not betray that her heart feels like it might explode. And also a little shattered. “God.”

“Okay. I’m hungry. Go order pizza.”

—

They settle on The Lion King. She hasn’t rewatched it in a while. She tries her hardest not to think about herself too much as Simba finds his father’s body, pokes at it. The image of her own husband and son standing over her body, passed out… Then she realizes she’s relating a little too much to an animated lion. She chuckles to herself.

Anyways. It’s nice. It’s sweet. They both cry. MJ makes a mental note that they should do this kind of thing more often. Not just big dates out, which they’ve been doing regularly, but nights at home just the two of them. It feels… right. 

And then Frankie heads back off to her room, and MJ to hers. Puts on her pyjamas, brushes her teeth. She picks up her phone as she climbs into bed. She hasn’t texted Steve since she got word that he had landed.

“Hopefully you’re partying in some bar with your coworkers right now but I hope you had a great day. Love you. Sleep well.”

In a way, she’s glad Steve went away. And she’ll be sure to tell him that, that she really was fine without him, and it made her feel… healthy. Normal again. It can be a little frustrating, sometimes, the way he treats her like she’s so fragile. She’ll bring that up in couple’s counselling. She appreciates his support, more than she could ever express, but he needs to learn to trust her to take care of herself again. She’s capable of it.

That doesn’t mean she doesn’t miss him, that night, as she lies alone in the dark. Yes, it’s nice to have the whole bed to herself, not be fighting his sprawling legs for space. But it’s so silent, in bed without his breathing next to her. Reminds her a little of rehab. 

Her phone buzzes.

“Sleep tight love. Miss you.”

She smiles to herself in the glowing light of her phone, before placing it back on her nightstand.

Nights are her least favourite part of the day. During the daytime, her life has almost completely returned to normal. Her kids don’t treat her like she’s breakable anymore. Steve is working on that—he’s a little slower at it. She doesn’t get pitying looks from the women on the PTA. She’s just Mary Jane again. Strong, but human. 

But at night, she struggles. When she does sleep, she’s still prone to nightmares, but most of the time it’s just the intense insomnia. And the fear. Tonight, alone, she can’t get to sleep. And the longer she stays awake, the more she aches for her husband’s presence beside her. 

He slept with her sweaters. She’d never known that, he’d never mentioned it, maybe a little embarrassed. Or maybe he didn’t want her to feel guilty about her three months away. But as she thinks about it more and more, highly aware of the empty place next to her in bed, she can’t help but think….

Fuck it. She slides out of bed, the air cold, and opens his drawer. She doesn’t need light—she grabs the first thing in his sweater drawer, and knows exactly which one it is, grey and wooly with a red stripe across the chest. She holds it up to her face. It smells perfectly like him, like the cologne she bought him for their first Christmas that he has worn ever since, even as it gets harder and harder for him to find in various specialty stores online. 

She climbs back into bed, lying on her side, knees curled as she faces Steve’s empty pillow. The sweater stays grasped in her arms, tucked under her chin. And, like that, with her little piece of him beside her, she finally drifts off to sleep.


End file.
